Gilroy Fannon
Name: Gilroy Fannon Age: 38 (looks more like he's 18 - 20) Species: Daemon Description: He is 6'2 with brown eyes and naturally brown hair that is often dyed lighter or darker, but never anything crazy like blue. He always wears something to cover his forehead, and the rest of his clothing can change in an instant; he is a master of disguise. As such, it's hard to pin down exactly what his accent is. Like Rahne, he does not look like any particular nonhuman, which he often uses to his favor when disguised. It is unknown where or how exactly he gets things such as his prized motorcycle and various disguises, but no one has yet had the chance to ask. He is usually gone before anyone notices. Personality: Gil is extremely laid back, preferring to blend into the crowd rather than stick out. He's very quick, usually, to get out of a situation and disappear; however, he's used to only doing this himself, which can become a definite weakness when travelling with someone else. Oddities: He has several unattributed "abilities", starting with the most obvious, disguise. Also he can, to a degree, know what others are thinking, but only if they're thinking something in direct relation to him. Finally, he can open portals, banish demons, and perform what seems like magic, but isn't. He's a fair fighter, due to his slight advantage of knowing what the other will do next, but is not exceptional. Finally, he can lie extremely well and has very few tells. ---- Fast Facts= Gender: Male Favorite color: Orange Birth date: June 20 Mother: Unknown Father: Ruairi (Pronounced "Rory") Fannon Owned by: AmberTempest |-| Past= 20 years old (Word count: 6,046): Overwhelming would have been the correct term to describe the entirety of the situation stretched out before Gilroy Fannon. The three targets, all demons and all extremely powerful, were safely behind essentially an army of various creatures, ranging from sidhe to lesser demons. If anyone was to survive the day, he knew the top three absolutely had to be eliminated. Otherwise, he and everyone else under his command would be hunted down and destroyed. Studying the legion, he searched for any possible way to handle this problem with the least amount of casualties as possible. And yet from his experience, he knew there was going to be no “least amount” in this situation; almost every angle would most likely end in a bloodbath. Narrowing his eyes, he carefully slid back down from his position to the three soldiers crouching half-hidden at the bottom of the slope. They looked at him expectantly, the jumbled thoughts of all three questioning him simultaneously. “Jezebeth, Doirich, and Lucifer are all on the far end of the valley,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard. “The best line of attack would be to go around.” “We can’t afford to lose the time it would take to go around, Gil,” Cirro, one of the fae warriors, narrowed his eyes. Gil couldn’t help but note that Cirro used his preferred name with some amount of satisfaction before that quickly turned into grimness at the situation. “We can’t afford to lose most of our forces either, there’s at least 50,000 between us and them.” He could hear the protests begin to lessen. “Is there any way to divide them?” Kemuel, who was normally quiet about his objections, finally spoke up. “Not without dividing ourselves up. And all our plans to draw away a sufficient amount of them has failed.” He grimaced at his own words. “We’ve got few other options at this point.” “Once we get around, though, all those troops will circle around and attack once we engage the big three.” Sessile shifted thoughtfully. “There’s still no chance of this ending well.” He frowned, forcing himself to think hard through the almost overpowering sense of doom. “We can’t fight on more than one front, and can’t afford to spread our troops too thin. How many spell casters do we have?” With a slightly confused look, Sessile thought for a moment. “Maybe thirty, not including the fae.” “We’ll need them to create a distraction.” Motioning for the three to follow him, he silently made his way through the forest to camp. He purposefully strode through the organized chaos of the encampment, stopping in front of one of the few larger tents. One of the standing guards cast him a condescending look, which he promptly ignored. “I’m here to see Damon.” “He’s with the supreme general and the council representatives, you’ll have to wait,” the faerie’s eyes flicked back to staring at nothingness. “Well, damn the fact that there’s a war going on, tell him Gilroy Fannon is here with a report on the demon’s army. But if you’d rather unsuspectingly walk straight into their camp without as much as a warning, by all means, keep me held up here.” The faerie had an appalled look on his face, going very pale. “Will you wait here please.” “With pleasure.” He watched as the guard disappeared through the tent’s entrance, appearing less than a minute later. “Go right in, sir,” the faerie spat the last word out with such contempt that it wasn’t even necessary to know what thoughts were running through his head. Brushing it off, nonetheless, he entered the tent, the three silent soldiers trailing behind him and giving a disapproving look towards the insubordinate guard. In the flickering light of the tent, Damon looked extremely haggard, dark shadows collecting under his eyes. As Gil entered, Damon’s hazel eyes flicked up from the table he and four others were studying. “Gilroy, thank God, what did you find out?” His words got the attention of the other four, and suddenly all five pairs of eyes were focused on him. Completely undeterred, he stepped up to the table so he could see the map they were all looking at. “The demons are camped here,” he pointed out the location. “At least 50,000 between us and the big three, with no easy way to get around them and gain the upper hand. Any attempt to attack head-on would end in a bloodbath, but any attempt to attack here,” he pointed out the flank of the demon’s forces, “and we’ll still have a bloodbath.” Damon set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, making him look more gaunt than before. “What would your recommendation be, then?” “If the spell casters were able to create a diversion on the front, our troops be relatively safer attacking the flank. The distraction would allow us enough to gain the upper hand, if only for a little bit.” Ryul, the supreme general of the faeries, gave a dubious look. “There can’t possibly be that many, the last report I received gave the number of only 10,000.” “I’m sorry, but that’s what I saw,” Gil said solemnly, straightening. Sabila, one of the younger representatives from the faerie council made a sound of disapproval. “If that’s the case, then the attack should be put off until further notice, until their numbers are spread out more.” “That is not an option,” Damon startled her by getting very close to yelling, slamming his fist on the table. “We do not have the luxury of time, every single minute we spend here arguing, they’re building up their numbers and getting stronger.” Recovering from her initial shock, Sabila drew herself up, narrowing her eyes. “You would have us send an already small army into battle you aren’t even sure can be won?!” “WE WILL WIN.” Everything went silent, Sabila pursing her lips and staring wide-eyed at him with a half dumbfounded, half enraged look on her face. “We have to win, because if we don’t, we will never have the chance ever again. The demons are only getting stronger, and we are only getting weaker. It is time to stand up and defeat them before we can’t any longer. Ladies and gentlemen, we are in a fight for our existence, and if you don’t see that, kindly leave this tent and stay out of it.” The looks on the three council representative’s faces were absolutely priceless, and Gil had to work to keep from even showing the slightest grin. Without a doubt, he agreed with Damon; the council hadn’t been prepared for any sort of battle equivalent to the war between the sidhe and fae maybe five thousand years ago. Just long enough for the nuances of war to be forgotten. All in all, they were highly unqualified to be advising anything at all, in all honesty. On the other hand, Ryul actually did look somewhat amused, hiding it by clearing his throat and bringing the representatives out of their shocked reverie. “I happen to agree with Damon, this is our final stand. We have to defeat the demons now, or our inevitable outcome will be the same as if we lose here.” Still pressing her lips together, Sabila looked between him and Damon, only momentarily glancing at Gil before her auburn eyes flicked back to Damon. “Is there any other possible way to deter their army while we attack from the back?” Gil stepped forward once more. “Not without spreading out our troops too thin. We simply don’t have the upper hand, numbers-wise, to waste any resources on an overelaborate diversion.” “There has to be something else we can do to keep as many of our men alive,” her voice rose, a slight tremor noticeable. Gil took a deep breath, looking her straight in the eye. “I checked the terrain for any sort of extra advantage, but there isn’t any. And our attempts at drawing them out or sabotaging them have all failed. Without a doubt, they chose a good spot.” The supreme general’s face was just as grim as Damon’s, which acted as a contrast to Sabila and the other representatives who all looked pale as sheets. Sabila swallowed visibly, looking back down at the map. “Alright.” Looking at her companions, she swallowed again before looking back at the map. “When will this happen?” “It’ll have to be dawn,” Damon said matter-of-factly. “It’ll give us the only advantage we’ll have; the sun.” “And the details of the attack?” “The main objective is to put Jezebeth, Doirich, and Lucifer each behind their own Seal. Anyone or anything that tries to stop me from making the Seals has to die; I can’t focus on those two things at once.” “Well that’s what we’re here for, Damon,” someone said, entering the tent. Immediately upon hearing the sound of his voice, Gil moved out of the way in sync with the three silent soldiers behind him, inclining his head slightly in respect. The man who walked past him inclined his head ever so slightly back, giving only a hint of a smile. Returning the look, Gil watched as the man took a place at the table, surveying the map. “Everyone wants the demons deposed.” “Ruairi, it’s good to see you,” Damon’s face broke into a smile before he leaned closer to his friend, a worried look crossing his features. “How are they?” Gil was just barely able to catch what he said. “Theia and the bairn are fine,” Ruairi murmured back. Nodding, Damon mouthed a thanks before turning back to the others. Without missing a beat, Ruairi addressed the rest of the people present. “The angels haven’t decided whether to help or not. I think it’s safe to say we won’t be getting any help from them, except at the last minute.” Damon shook his head, looking less than surprised. “Of course.” Pressing his palm against the table, he gave a polite sort of nod. “We have our plan then, I would advise you all to get some rest.” Returning his nod, they left the tent, Gil immediately stepping out of their way as they filed by. After they had left, Damon gave Gil a thoughtful sort of look. “Gilroy, your men should rest up as well.” Gil didn’t waste time, nodding, turning, and muttering the instruction for the three to go and get some sleep, which they seemed grateful for. Turning back to the two men, he assessed them, unable to really figure out why he was still there. As soon as they had left, Damon’s determined mask melted away into absolute exhaustion, and he ran his hand through his hair. Indicating for the two of us to sit, he wearily pulled up a chair and seated himself. “You haven’t been sleeping much, have you?” Ruairi mused, leaning forward in his chair. “Not recently, no. There’s a lot on my mind.” Then after a moment, he added, “The baby… is it a boy or a girl?” “Girl, an’ a pretty little thing she is too; I’ll be the first to congratulate ya.” “A girl…” a wide smile crept up his face as he seemed to stare off into nothingness. “What’s her name?” “Rahne Philomena.” Damon repeated the name with the same huge grin on his face, a mixture of absolute joy and hope in his unseeing eyes. “God, I wish I could see her more than anything…” he said more to himself than either of the other two. Then suddenly it was as if someone flipped a switch, and he focused back on Ruairi with a fearful sort of look. “You’re sure they’re both safe?” Ruairi gave a nod. “Safe and sound with a friend. Teague, you might remember him.” Nodding then sighing, Damon put a hand to his forehead. “This has to work.” “Have a little faith, it’ll work. We’ll win because we’ll be damned if we don’t.” Pressing his lips together, Damon nodded. “The damned part, that’s what I’m worried about.” The conversation went fairly quickly after that, Ruairi once again assuring Damon that the plan would work, as well as going over the details of the Seal’s creation. Finally, it ended with Damon quietly expressing what he wanted to happen if he didn’t make it, which was quickly followed by Ruairi’s assurance that he would make it because they were going to win. And with that, Damon was told to make sure he rested as well before the two left him to go and sleep themselves. It was now fully dark outside and the two walked in relative silence to the older man’s tent. “Gilroy,” Ruairi put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in front of the tent. “Be careful tomorrow.” “I will if you do.” The elder man had a very serious look on his face, just as serious as Gil did. “I am an old man. Losing my heir, and worse, my son, would be unbearable. Promise you will be careful.” The words weighed heavy on Gil’s ears; the promises he made were just as strong as the ones faeries made, if not more so, and could not be broken easily. Still, Ruairi had not asked for something impossible. “I promise I will be careful. Sir,” he added in an afterthought. Nodding solemnly, the man took his hand off Gil’s shoulder. With that, Gil swiftly turned and walked to his own tent, deep in thought. Still thinking, he took off the light armor he had on, forcing himself to lie down and close his eyes. Despite the quiet, almost peaceful, surroundings, it was an impossible task. The closest he got to sleep was a sort of trance-like state, getting up at least an hour before dawn. Hearing the muted sounds of others putting on armor, he guessed he wasn’t the only one anticipating the imminent fight. Without as much as a single thought, Gil put on his own light armor and tied his sword to his belt. Although it would have been better to have the added protection of more bulky armor, it would have slowed him down too much. Gil paused before he left his tent, running through anything else he might need. But aside from the short dagger strapped to his forearm hidden underneath his sleeve and the blade on his side, he couldn’t really afford to carry much else. Brushing off the feeling of being unprepared, he stepped out into the dark, mistiness of morning. The camp was just now waking up more fully, soldiers starting to emerge from their tents, the strong scent of tea and liquor mingling with the sharp smells of wet earth and trampled grass. Walking through the camp, Gil was stopped by the faerie army’s general, Sokamri Menoroth. “Damon requests your presence.” Thanking him, Gil changed his direction and made his way back towards Damon’s tent, this time not having any problems with the guards; there weren’t any. He entered, blinking in the semi-darkness and quickly sizing Damon up. It was safe to say he looked fairly tired, only half ready, and was wearing a tunic and pants with what looked like leather armor sitting on the table that had previously had a map on it. Damon himself was reading something that appeared to be a letter, which he promptly folded up and stuck in his pocket when Gil entered. “Your command has been expanded to five, the two soldiers have already been picked and are waiting with the rest of your team.” “May I ask why?” “You, your team, and Ruairi will be with me.” Gil blinked, having not expected that. Between Damon and the rest of the demon army, yes, but on his detail, no. Recovering, Gil nodded. “Is there anything else?” “No, thank you Gilroy.” Nodding once more, Gil promptly left the tent and found his men, easily picking out the two new ones, all sitting around a small fire which was heating a pot of water. They all looked tired, varying expressions of seriousness on each of their faces. Noticing his approach, the three who knew him stood up; the two who didn’t looked confused at the other three before hurriedly standing. “Did you know about this?” Sessile asked in a deceptively calm voice, obviously referring to the two new soldiers. “Not until this morning.” Turning to face them, he gave them an acknowledging nod. “My name is Gilroy Fannon, but like I’ve told these three over here, please call me Gil. What are your names?” “Yes-Gil,” there was an awkward sort of pause between the words as if the soldier were unused to using an actual name. Studying her, he decided she must have been straight from training. “My name is Keylr Tisdar.” “Nice to meet you Keylr, and…” Gil looked at the other soldier, who straightened slightly. “Gaelin Paeral, si-Gil.” “Gaelin. Do you know who they are as well?” Gil pointed at the other three. “Yes.” “Good. I assume you already know what we will be doing today?” All five nodded, grim expressions creeping onto their faces. “Is anyone having second thoughts?” There was a short pause before Kemuel shook his head, quickly followed by the others. “Good. I imagine we’ll be leaving shortly, so be prepared.” Not waiting for a response, Gil left to finish his brief tour of the camp and mentally prepare himself. Just as he predicted, no more than 15 minutes later, Gil was silently following Damon and Ruairi, followed by the five soldiers. Following them were the spellcasters, and even further behind them was the rest of the faerie army. As they got into their positions, the spell casters hanging back a bit further so they could cause the diversion, Gil looked from their high position down at the demon’s army, which appeared to be alive and slowly writhing. Glancing at the position of the sun, which was just barely peeking from behind the high hills, Gil scrutinized the rather large camp, taking long, deep breaths and waiting for the diversion. After the diversion, the army itself, which was positioned a bit closer to the camp, would attack, giving Gil and the others a chance to take the three demons by surprise. An explosion near the camp’s beginning, followed swiftly by small black shapes rushing into the camp and attacking anyone there, signaled the beginning of the attack. Almost immediately after, the signal was given for the army to advance. A loud yell went up, rising to a roar as they ran down the hill much to the astonishment of the demon’s army. Once the two armies were engaged, Damon signaled for the seven of them to move before leaping over the crest of the hill and running down it. Practically chasing after him, Gil was the first to catch up, closely followed by the others. They made their way to the fight, Damon moving directly toward a woman surrounded by fire and falling ash; getting closer, Gil was able to see it was Jezebeth. Although she had only been described to him, he knew it was her: horns spiraling from her head, fangs glinting in the dancing light of the fire around her, and the air of power radiating from her. Putting a hand on his sword as he ran towards her, Gil drew it and stopped just as Damon did, immediately slicing through the inadequate armor of a sidhe who was trying to attack them. Jezebeth noticed us right as he had done so, as if the glint of holy metal caught her eye. Lip twitching, she glared scornfully, the fire around her seeming to be drawn back to her suddenly. “If you are looking for my master, you are too late you filthy scumbag.” “Where are they?!” Ruairi shouted at her, sword ready to attack. Jezebeth bared her teeth in what might have been a grin. “Valasea and Onellon, good luck finding them.” “Gilroy!” Ruairi immediately shouted, opening a portal. Getting the gist instantly, Gil threw off the being who had been attacking him, raised a hand to the livid Jezebeth, and began to recite the words to immobilize her before he began creating the Seal. Though he was focused, he noticed Damon and two others fighting off lesser demons and slipping into the portal before it snipped shut. The sudden ringing of metal on metal very close to his head almost made him lose focus, bringing his full attention back to Jezebeth. The demoness was resisting his attempts to keep her contained, pressing as far as she could go within the boundaries he was creating, managing to break past them when he couldn’t speak fast enough. She advanced on Gil, her eyes going from the color of coal to a molten yellow-red, burning into him with such ferocity he took an automatic step back. She held out her hand, the flames nearest her stretching, forming themselves into a blade before she sprung at him. Extremely aware of the sword in his hand, Gil waited until she was nearly on top of him before swinging his sword up to block hers; his knees buckled under the sudden force. Making a split-second decision, he angled his sword, freeing himself from the direct weight of Jezebeth’s attack as her sword slid to the ground. As soon as her sword had left his, he jammed the pommel into her face, which only seemed to enrage her more. Fingers curling into a fist, she punched him, sending him backwards to the ground. Dazed only momentarily, he hastily rolled out of the way as Jezebeth stabbed where his head had been. Getting back to his feet, he tried to immobilize her once more, speaking as fast as he could as she got to her feet and advanced quickly. She grabbed his neck and slammed him onto the ground, cutting off whatever he had been saying; choking, he grabbed her wrist with one hand slashed at her with the other. However, she seemed to have been prepared, grabbing his sword arm and pinning it to the ground. He gripped tighter onto her wrist as she pushed harder on his neck, black spots now dancing around in his vision and threatening to consume everything. Pulling together as much as he could, he kicked her chest, hoping she would lose her grip on him. For only a moment, the pressure on his throat lessened before returning with a force and very nearly pushing him over the edge right then. She was smiling, clearly enjoying his now feeble struggles to stay alive. “Did you really think you could defeat me?” she whispered, Gil barely managing to catch her words through his rapidly fading consciousness. There was a whooshing sound combined with a yell and a scream, and suddenly Gil could breathe again. Rolling to his side as breathing reflexes kicked in, he coughed violently, somehow getting to his feet unsteadily. Keylr had intervened, as he could now see, although she was quickly losing ground to the enraged demoness. Despite the hoarseness of his throat, Gil shouted the words to immobilize her as fast as he could, as much determination as he could muster pouring into the words he was speaking. This time, she wasn’t able to throw off his words so easily, giving an unearthly shriek before screaming obscenities at him as he successfully trapped her; Jezebeth literally exploded in fury, fire erupting across her skin, twisting her very features and making her look more like the hellish creature she was. Ignoring that, the fighting going on around him, and his own tiredness, Gil quickly shifted to the words for creating a portal, not even pausing to take a breath. He put all his effort and concentration into the words he was saying, knowing that one small mistake, one tiny lapse in concentration, could jeopardize the entire thing. Jezebeth was screeching back at him, desperately endeavoring to break his concentration in any way possible, causing fire to erupt around him and lick painfully at his legs and arms. Despite her attempts, he managed to stay fixated on his task, refusing even to flinch. With some amount of effort, what looked like a hole opened up between Gil and Jezebeth, threatening to close at any moment should he have lost focus. He had already released her bonds, straining just to keep the Seal open long enough; Jezebeth, who was now screaming in a mixture of dread and pure hatred, was on the ground, clawing at it, as an invisible force dragged her through the hole. Finally, she slipped entirely through with a bloodcurdling scream, and Gil immediately finished the rest of the Seal, closing it up. Breathing heavily, he stumbled back a bit from the sudden wave of fatigue that washed over him. In a slight daze, he looked around at the literal battle going on around him. It struck him they should fall back before any more were lost; the real fight wasn’t here anymore. Catching sight of Ryul, Gil managed to shout at him to retreat. Unsure of whether he got the message or not, Gil focused once more, this time on creating a portal to Damon and hoping it would end up in the right area. “Cirro, Kemuel, Gaelin, Keylr,” he shouted, finally realizing who the third person with Damon and Ruairi had been. Responding to his shout quickly enough, the four jumped through the portal, Gil catching a glimpse of the faerie army retreating before jumping through the portal. Almost immediately, he drew back, barely avoiding a sword going straight for his head. The holder of the weapon didn’t pause when his blade didn’t make contact, charging straight at Gil and ramming into him with his shoulder. Flying onto the ground, Gil sucked in a breath at the sudden pain of his head hitting something hard, realizing only a moment later his sword was no longer in his hand. The orc, as he could now see it was, advanced on him quickly, sword raised and ready to kill. Throwing up a hand, Gil shouted the first word that popped into his head, sending the orc flying backwards. Gil scrambled to his feet, hunting for his sword in the ankle-high grass while the orc regained got back up, angrier than before. With a bellow, the orc raised his weapon, obviously intending to kill Gil once and for all when he finally found the hilt of his sword. Faster than lightning, Gil drove the weapon straight into the orc’s chest. With another quick movement, Gil freed his sword, moving out of the way for the dying orc to fall before surveying where he was. Fighting various things were seven people, all easily recognizable as Damon and the others. Jumping over the now dead orc, Gil ran straight into the fray, blocking the axe of a lesser demon trying to kill Sessile while he was busy fighting something else. A house, if it could even be called that, was at least 50 feet away at the base of a hill, surrounded by a fence. Just outside the fence, a being stood watching the fight calmly. Although Gil was too distracted by what he was fighting to see any more details, he knew that had to be the hopefully final demon to be Sealed away. Finally killing the lesser demon, Gil ran to and dispatched the creature Damon was fighting as well. “Is that the last one?” Gil glanced towards the still unnervingly calm demon. “Yeh,” Damon huffed, seemingly out of breath. “We got here only a few minutes before you did; Doirich was a b@stard. Jezebeth..?” Gil nodded. “She’s gone.” “Good…” straightening, he wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a long smudge of dirt, before advancing on who Gil now knew to be Lucifer. Gil, catching sight of something trying to advance on Damon, quickly attacked it with a renewed ferocity. Unfortunately, the demon’s attacks became more aggressive as well; dark, misty shadows leaked from the ground, forming themselves into twisted shapes of what looked like black opaque glass. The new creatures hissed, spinning around and focusing their beady yellow eyes on everyone else. Shouting a warning, Gil kicked what he was fighting away from him before getting a lucky slash at its neck, running towards the new creatures and slicing at one. The blade hit the creature where its neck would be perfectly, and the thing shattered, shards falling to the ground heavily. For a moment, nothing happened, until suddenly the fragments flew back together, the creature’s makeshift, lopsided mouth opening in an earsplitting cry. Cursing and stumbling back, hands to his ears, Gil muttered a word to stop the shrieking sound, the creature lurching before making a low grating sound. Although he knew it was probably about to attack, he risked a glance towards Damon, seeing he was fighting off one of the glass-creatures as well. He was unable to check on the others, however, as the being lunged for him, almost managing to impale him on one of its spiky arms. Desperately grasping for any way to defeat it, Gil blocked its attacks, which only seemed to cause smaller shards to break off and fly back to the being’s body almost as soon as they were fragmented off. Quickly falling into defense, Gil blocked the creature’s unrelenting attacks before it managed to hook his sword and throw it from his hands. Backing up from the fast-advancing being, Gil was about to say something in a last ditch attempt to not die when an explosion tore through the air, nearly sending him to the ground. Although he knew the source, Gil looked at it anyways, breath catching when he saw Lucifer; the demon looked enraged, blue fire burning in his eyes, and a dark twisted look that was one shade from being able to actually kill. Damon was in the process of standing when the beast opened his mouth and roared, the sky instantly darkening as another explosion of blue ripped across the land, sending everyone and everything flying to the ground. Gil sucked in his breath as the temperature dropped dramatically, pushing himself off the still rumbling ground. Patches of blue fire dotted the landscape, illuminating the figures of Damon and Ruairi, who were both now standing, as well as the demon. The temperature continued to drop until everyone’s breath was visible, but seemed to slow once it had gotten to that point. Ruairi attacked Lucifer first, a bright flash of light erupting from the demon’s feet and causing him to jump back, spitting back words that made the light implode on itself and then explode back into Ruairi. Just managing to block the attack, the man countered with a similar attack while Damon began to try to immobilize the demon. Inhuman mouth baring what might have been teeth, Lucifer quickly turned on Damon, blue fire erupting from nowhere and slamming into him, holding him tight against the ground. Simultaneously, the demon gave an unearthly howl, hunching over as his body seemed to fade slightly; there was a tearing, groaning sound as Lucifer split into five identical bodies, each of them immediately attacking the two. Forgetting his sword, Gil ran at them, shouting a word of his own at the nearest of Lucifer’s figures. It staggered back, immediately turning and attacking him with a force he was only half-prepared for. Punching Gil in the face, it spun him around and shoved him to the ground before he had the chance to react, slamming its leg onto his back and shoving the air out of his lungs. Stunned for a second, Gil rolled out from underneath it, yelling another word at it before kicking the legs out from under it. Before the form could react, Gil was up and had a knee on its chest, punching the thing in the face repeatedly. “Gilroy, get it over here!” Ruairi yelled, distracting Gil enough for the figure to punch him in the face. Grappling with each other, Gil tried to regain the upper hand, hearing Damon attempting to immobilize Lucifer again. It was working even less than it was before, Damon sounding more strained than ever. Gil managed to wrestle the figure down and was in the process of dragging it over to where Damon and Ruairi were when it finally started to freeze up, Damon’s words starting to take hold. The air shuddered, the demon still fighting back as vigorously as it could within its growing prison. Glancing back, Gil saw the four soldiers, staring with terror in their eyes as Damon struggled to keep Lucifer subdued. Everything else lay dead at their feet; Gil looked back just in time for something to explode in a blinding flash, sky thundering angrily as the wind powerfully swirled against everyone. Above the low roar of the wind, Damon could be heard forcefully reciting the words to create the Seal. Struggling against the wind, Gil squinted at the bright light, trying to make out what was going on; minutes dripped by until finally the light was sucked into a hole which then snapped out of existence. Finally able to see, Gil noted with some amount of alarm that Ruairi was lying on the ground unmoving and Damon was clutching his chest and wheezing. Forcing himself to move, Gil ran over just as Damon collapsed on the ground, now gasping horribly like a fish out of water. Gil rolled him over, Damon grasping onto his arm tightly, as he was finally able to see what was wrong; there was blood all over, a rather large piece of jagged metal sticking out of his chest. Although he tried to help, Damon would not let go of his arm, making a strange gurgling sound. “Please-,“ he choked out, his mind racing to say what he couldn’t physically before his whole body stiffened then relaxed, Damon’s hand slipping off Gil’s arm. Slowly, Gil checked for a pulse before closing the man’s eyes. Standing, he apprehensively checked Ruairi for a pulse, but found he had died from the same sort of injury Damon had. Forcing down the emotion threatening to overtake his mind, Gil stood and found his sword, sheathing it. He then walked towards the four soldiers, muttering the words that would make them forget who he was. Once their eyes had glazed over and they were now certain it had only been Ruairi and Damon who had been present, Gil opened a portal to where he hoped Teague was in Mundanus. Somewhere in his muddled thoughts, the idea there should be a better system for knowing where everyone was popped up, but it was quickly drowned out by other things. He found the abandoned-looking house with a mark on the door indicating it was a safehouse not far from where he had appeared and stopped in front of it hesitantly. Not sure what to expect, he took a breath and slowly trudged up the concrete path to the front door before knocking three times. Barely noticing the flash in the window, Gil straightened as Teague opened the door. “Get inside, you look like sh8t.” Without a word, Gil did so, only now aware that he had just stepped off a battlefield and looked it. Teague looked afraid to be hopeful. “What happened? The demons-“ “Jezebeth, Doirich, and Lucifer are all behind Seals.” Teague broke into a smile which very quickly faded upon seeing the look on Gil’s face. “But?” “Damon and Ruairi are-“ “What’s going on?” a tired-looking woman appeared from behind a corner, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. Gil could only assume this was Theia. Looking him over, she clutched the bundle tighter to her, a fearful look in her eye. “The demons..?” “They’ve been taken care of,” Teague seemed to have understood what Gil was going to say before he was interrupted. Theia took a step back, looking more terrified. “Damon...?” Teague pressed his lips together, bowing his head in a slow nod. Tears filled the woman’s eyes and she ran back behind the corner, loud sobs mingling with the sounds of a baby crying. “I have to go to Demense,” Gil said quietly, to which Teague nodded. “Ruairi. I’ll keep an eye on her.” “Thank you.” With that, Gil left. |-| Present= N/A |-| Future= Accidents: He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, head pounding and blood rushing through his ears. Blind, deaf, and gasping for air. It was the hands he felt first, hot against his already burning skin. Through the indistinct ringing, rushing, he could hear a low rumble. Like speaking, but low and impossible to make out… Slowly, it became easier to breathe, mumbling continuing until the pressure started to loosen its grip, and his sight and hearing started to return. Everything was indistinct and blurred, fading in like an old television until Gil could finally make out Seanan leaning over him, cupping his face, tears in his eyes as he muttered words – Gil only caught a little of the Latin-Celtic mix. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered, over and over again like a mantra, shoulders shaking. Weakly, Gil put a hand over Connall’s, loosely entwining their fingers… closing his eyes. Relaxing into Seanan’s touch while he tried to stay conscious; he knew it was bad. Couldn’t feel anything just yet, but he knew from the look on Seanan’s face. Maybe that meant the words Seanan had spoken were just for the pain… he didn’t know, thoughts blurring and Gil opening his eyes in an attempt to combat that. “Hold on… just hold on…” Gil could only manage a feeble affirmation, barely able to nod before unconsciousness claimed him. Only a Nightmare: He was screaming, sobbing, pleading Seanan to wake up - to stay with him, but there was already nothing there. No life left in his grey eyes. “Please don’t go,” he begged, but he knew Seanan was already gone. Already beyond his reach - but he wouldn’t accept this, he wouldn’t believe it - he couldn’t, Seanan would come back. He always came back. Arms grabbed onto him, pulling him away from Seanan, and immediately Gil fought back. “NO,” he screamed, tears streaming down his face while he wrenched away from the hands trapping him. “No, Seanan! Seanan!” He wouldn’t stop fighting, even when they dragged him away; he could see someone standing over Seanan, through all his tears, could see them touching him - Gil’s struggles renewed instantly. “NO! DON’T TOUCH HIM, DON’T TOUCH H-HIM!” Nobody cared what he yelled, nobody cared what he wanted - he didn’t even know who they were. He was forced to his knees, having only enough sense of mind to look up and see the demon. See the blade flashing- Gil practically fell out of his own bed, gasping, heart pounding, nearly certain he was about to throw up - heaving while he struggled desperately to disentangle himself from the sheets. Hands grabbed his wrists, and Gil’s first reaction was to jerk away. The hands held tight. “Gil - Gil, look at me, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Gil wasn’t sure what to even think, freezing at the sight, the sound of Seanan… then breaking into horrible, painful sobs as he flung his arms around Seanan. Hugging him tight. Seanan didn’t ask anything more, simply hugging him back and gently rocking. “Shhh, it’s okay… I’m right here… everything is going to be okay, my love…” Gil could only hold on. Category:Characters Category:Charrie Category:The Unknown RP